Will followed the stranger inside the Heart chapter house. It looked much like the Castlegate Falls Heart common room at a glance, albeit less threadbare. A common room dominated the ground floor, and several people wearing the Heart's white tabards ranged around it tending to people in various stages of injury and healing.

These sorts of magics were foreign to Will, and he watched in fascination as a mage worked, a glow trickling from both his hands where they lay on a man's clearly broken forearm. The patient moaned and writhed a bit but didn't seem to be in unbearable pain as the bones were being knit back together The cloaked stranger murmured, "You may release the manacles."

Will did so with alacrity. He was roundly sick of being hauled around like a piece of meat. That was enough of slavery for him, thanks be.

Another flash of white indicated the stranger had smiled deep within his cloak. "Disliked shackles, did you? Never forget what they feel like."

"Yes, Master," Will said with a bite of sarcasm.

His companion's head whipped in Will's direction. What? What had he said to merit such a reaction? After all, the fellow was preaching at him like a schoolmaster.

The healer who'd let them in returned. "Follow me. High Matriarch Lenora is waiting for you."

Stars! Who was this cloaked man he'd taken up with to merit an instant audience with the highest-ranking healer in the entire colony, and late at night at that? Not to mention the nulvari had faced down the soldiers in Slaver's Square as if he were the governor himself.

Will followed the men upstairs, a few guttering candles in sconces lighting their way. Their Heart guide knocked on an age-blackened door.

"Enter!" The female voice was warm. Pleasant. But strong. And it turned out to belong to a human woman with blue, twinkling eyes and dark hair mussed as if she tugged at it often.

Will's companion stepped forward, his black cloak billowing like the wings of night itself. He pushed his hood back to reveal a shock of brilliant red hair in stark contrast to his midnight black complexion. Nulvari. Will stared at the elf. His kind were exceedingly rare in these parts. At least aboveground.

The High Matriarch cried out in obvious pleasure, "Selea. Welcome! And who have we here?" She had spotted Will.

For his part, Will gaped in shock. Selea? Could it be? Was this the man his father had named as one of his companions on his quest to find the Sleeping King? An assassin? What in stars' name had his father been doing keeping company with one such as this? Not to mention this cold stranger hardly struck Will as the type to go haring off across hill and dale in search of some mythic sleeping king. The more he learned of his father, the more questions piled up about him.

If only Ty were alive to explain all of this. To tell Will everything. He missed his parents almost more than he could bear at times. He would even be glad for his father's stern visage and frequent criticisms if Ty were but alive to deliver them.

Selea spoke, interrupting Will's despondent thoughts. "I bring you a lad in need of healing and a safe place to spend the night."

He really wished they'd all quit referring to him as a lad, or boy, or youngling.

"Is he in trouble with the law?" Lenora asked shrewdly.

"Not that I know of." The elf fixed his sinister gaze on Will. "Are the authorities looking for you?"

"Nobody even knows my name," Will answered carefully. He wasn't exactly sure where a lynch mob featuring the Celestial Order of the Dragon and the Mage's Guildmaster ranked on the scale of official or unofficial, but he didn't particularly feel like asking.

The matriarch shot him a penetrating look. "I hear evasion in your voice. But given the company you arrived in, I will take your word at face value for now." Her voice and expression abruptly waxed serious. "Know, however, that I will not allow you to abuse the sanctity of this house and its special status within the Empire. We do not harbor criminals."

Will frowned. He knew little of the Heart. "What special status?"

The healer smiled warmly once more. "That question requires a very long answer. Suffice it to say that the House of the Healing Heart enjoys a certain ... standing ... in the Empire."

"How did that come to be?" Will asked, ever curious.

"An equally long answer. Another time perhaps." She turned back to the dark elf. "What danger follows this young man that you bring him to me?"

Selea shrugged. "I cannot say for certain. An old acquaintance asked me to look after him."

Who in Dupree knew of him to ask this strange man to take care of him? Aurelius? But he and his knight had tried to kill Will- Of a sudden Selea's comments about how to kill him subtly took on new and alarming significance. The elf had already gained his trust and brought him to trustworthy people!

"Why you? And why this boy?" Lenora demanded bluntly.

"Rumors and portents," the nulvari answered vaguely.

"What's this?" the matriarch blurted, startled. "What portents?"

"Mostly mumbo jumbo. But so many seers are reporting similar visions and prophecies that there may be some small value in listening to them."

The matriarch's blue eyes twinkled. "Yon boy looks like a simple street urchin to me. A sick, hungry, tired, and filthy one. Hardly the stuff of portents and prophecies, old man."

Old man? Will glanced sidelong at the nulvari. He certainly didn't move like an aged person.

"Who gives these prophecies of yours?"

Selea shrugged. "I am not at liberty to say."

Lenora looked over at Will with renewed interest. "Well then. I guess you're spending the night here, young man."

"Thank you." He gave the pair the short, formal bow that his mother had taught him.

The nulvari startled Will by returning the bow courteously, as elven etiquette dictated.

Lenora waved off the formality. "So tell me. Who is out to harm you?"

Perhaps it was the exchange of bows that put him in mind of it, but an evasive response born of inspiration that was purely his mother's smooth social skills struck Will. He answered lightly, "My mother, I should think. When she realizes I have not returned home this night, she'll grab up the nearest frying pan and come looking for me with murder on her mind."

Lenora chuckled while a dagger of white-hot grief shot through Will's gut. If only she were alive to do such a thing, he'd gladly let her catch him.

The matriarch turned back to the nulvari. "What does the oracle speak of?"

"These lands lie at a crossroads. Great events come together to create a crisis. A long quest nears completion, and it shall lead to death."

Will jolted. Surely the prophets did not speak of his quest! He was done with all of that. He just wanted to get this stupid piece of wood unstuck from his chest and go home. No heroics for him, no sir.

Lenora asked sharply, "Has the governor gotten wind of this?"

Selea answered dryly, "I doubt the governor pays heed to any prophecy. He believes he has complete control of all that occurs on Haelos."

The High Matriarch shook her head. "Arrogance has been the downfall of the great before, and it shall be again." She led the way back to the common room. On the way down the dark stairs, Selea hung back a little, blocking Will from joining the matriarch ahead of them.

Will took the opportunity to whisper quickly to the nulvari, "You knew my father."

"Did I?" Selea asked blandly. "I know a great many people."

Urgently, sensing he had little time to banter with this elf, Will asked, "Where would you look if you sought a sleeping king?"

Selea stumbled and jerked himself upright with a quiet curse. "I'd look in his bed, boy."

"Where would you tell the son of Tiberius De'Vir to look?"

"Any De'Vir would know to search in the heart of the Forest of Thorns for both king and crown. But the De'Vir's are dead." He moved away from Will rapidly, pulling up his hood as he hurried down the stairs, effectively concealing his face and race once more.

When they arrived in the common room, Will thanked Selea for his safe escort and got back a single terse nod and the distinct impression that the fellow would rather not have Will bow to him again in the elven fashion in this public venue. Likewise, the assassin gave him no more chance to mention his father or ask questions.

As quickly as he'd appeared to Will before, Selea slipped out into the night and disappeared. Probably was off to find himself one of the poor sods named on his writs and kill him. Could the Heart interfere in an Assassin's Guild matter? Will was tempted to find out and tell Lenora of the writs he'd seen delivered earlier, except some small kernel of a wish to survive held him back.

Selea hurried through the night feeling as if a ghost breathed down his neck. Depths below, Tiberius's boy was just like him. Impatient, aggressive, confident to a fault. Quick-witted, though. And eager. Perhaps Aurelius's assessment of the lad was not so far wrong. The solinari thought there was a chance the lad could pick up the quest where his father had left off. Maybe even complete it. Still, the boy was barely off his mother's apron strings.

Or was it merely that he had grown old? He passed a hand across his face. His reflexes were not what they once were. He had given thought to retiring more than once, lately.

Leland's town house loomed and Selea knocked quietly upon the door. The guard recognized him on sight and let him in quickly.

"Is he awake?" Selea asked without preamble.

"Yes, sir. In his study."

He didn't need the man-at-arms to show him the way and told him so quietly. Selea passed through the comfortable home and wondered briefly what it would be like to live in one place for years on end. To put down roots. To surround himself with familiar and comfortable things- -Bah. It was softness to think thus. He was not done for just yet.

He opened the study door to let himself in and his old friend glanced up from his desk. Leland leaned back in his chair, smiling broadly. It had taken Selea years, but he'd trained this human not to engage him in the fist-pumping and back-thumping hugs that his race seemed to favor. He supposed their excessively short life spans made them prone to those dramatic displays of emotion.

"Selea. What brings you to my home at this unholy hour?"

"I saw De'Vir's boy."

That made Leland jump out of his seat. "He's here? In Dupree?"

"I just delivered him to the Heart. Something is wrong with him."

"Wrong? How?"

Selea shrugged. "I'm no healer. But the boy's sick. Looked like some sort of slow poison to me."

"What kind?"

He shrugged. "I did not recognize its smell."

Leland rolled his eyes. "If you do not know the poison, I doubt the Heart will do better. I would trust you over any healer in this land to recognize a poison and its source."

It was true enough. The great assassins did not rely only on their blades to kill. The art of killing lay in using the best means to accomplish the end. Sometimes a contract must seem an accident, while others it must loudly proclaim itself to be an assassination. He shrugged at Leland. "Mayhap it is an actual sickness."

"If so, the Heart will take care of it."

"Not this, I think. It was complex. Powerful." He hesitated and then added, "Old."

"Old disease?"

He spread his gloved hands wide. "I merely report my impressions."

"What would you have me do?"

"The lad is going to need special treatment. Expensive healing. He did not strike me as having the resources to finance his own cure."

"Ahh, yes. The age-old dilemma of healing for the rich while the poor die in droves."

"It is no dilemma!" Selea snapped. "It is merely the way of the world."

"It is the way of the Empire," Leland corrected.

Selea chose not to reply. The nulvari nation was closely aligned with the Empire, and he had spent his life in service to that same Empire. His honor-bound featly oath was given to an Imperial guild, and above all, nulvari valued their honor. Regardless of his personal opinion of the Empire, he was still its creature, no matter how reluctantly he might serve. Although that did not guarantee he always worked toward the Empire's ends by the same means as it might wish of him.

"I may have something-someone-who can heal De'Vir's boy," Leland announced, interrupting Selea's grim train of thought.

"Who?"

"An arch-mage has wandered into my home. A young healer. If anyone has the power to cure the lad, it will be her. She sleeps now to restore her powers, but I will take her to the Heart in the morn."

Selea nodded briskly, his errand accomplished.

"Is there any other news?" Leland asked.

It was kind of Hyland not to ask for specifics but rather to let him dictate what information he was at liberty to share. He answered carefully, "Ki'Raiden led the attack on Hickory Hollow where one Ty the cobbler resided."

Leland sucked in a sharp breath at that. "That must be the Boki war party we've received reports of. Why do orcs move against our old friend after all this time?"

"The Boki hold their grudges as well as anyone."

"It must be more than that," Leland declared.

"Like what?" It was Selea's turn to probe delicately for news.

Leland replied, "Mayhap their soothsayers are seeing the same portents that ours are. Something big is on the move. Powerful. Ancient forces step into the game."

Selea nodded slowly. That was in line with what he was hearing. A deep game was in play now. Deep enough for him to activate his sleepers? To call in decades' worth of favors? "What is De'Vir's boy up to?" he blurted uncharacteristically.

"The way Aurelius describes it, the lad plans to take up where we left off."

So. The boy truly had known what he asked when he'd whispered of a sleeping king. "Does he stand a chance of succeeding?"

Leland shrugged. "You tell me. You've met the boy. I have not."

Selea weighed the thing, making quick mental lists of the pluses and minuses of the boy's character. Finally, slowly, he said, "He might. With the right help, he just might."

Leland answered simply, "Then let us see to it he gets the help he needs."

Selea nodded in a decision more momentous than Leland knew. It is time. The long years of waiting were over. It was both a relief and a fearful thing to know the moment of final action was upon him at last.